An Awkward Meeting

Being a prudent damsel, and wise in her day and generation, Margot set
before herself the subjugation of Mrs McNab as her first duty in
Glenaire. To this end she repaired to her bedroom after breakfast on
the morning after her arrival, made her bed, carefully put away every
article of clothing, and tidied the oddments on the dressing-table; went
through the same performance in Ron's little crib adjoining her own, and
sailed downstairs in a glow of virtuous satisfaction.

Mrs McNab had apparently only one maid to help her to attend to her
eight guests and to keep the inn in its present condition of immaculate
order and cleanliness, though a shaggy-headed man--presumably the master
of the house--could be seen through the staircase window, meekly
brushing boots, and cleaning knives in a corner of the flagged yard. He
had a small, wizened face, to which the unkempt hair, tufted eyebrows,
and straggling whiskers gave a strong resemblance to a Skye terrier dog.
Margot watched him now and then for a minute or two as she passed up
and down, and heard him speaking once or twice, but he "had the Gaelic,"
and the sing-song voice and mysterious words sounded weirdly in her
ears. Sometimes, as he put the final polish on the boots, he would
break into song,--a strange, tuneless song which quavered up and down,
and ended on long-sustained notes. Once even she saw the slippered feet
move in jaunty dance-step to and fro, but at the sound of a clatter of
saucepans from the kitchen close at hand he retired into his corner, and
polished with redoubled energy. Mrs McNab evidently kept her husband
in order, even as she did her house!